I hate that doctor’s offices make me cry. Whether the doctor is delivering good news or bad news, before the appointment is over I am a ball of ugly crying in the corner.
My son finally had his 4 year well child check up. He is well over halfway through the age of four, but finally we have our appointment.
Of course, the first part of the appointment was an absolutely disaster. You would think the doctor’s office that diagnosed my son with ASD would know that we are not going to get him to stand still on the scale (though this went relatively well), or that we are not going to get him to stand with his back against the wall long enough to get his height. And taking his blood pressure… are you kidding me? This has never worked for my son, it’s not going to work now. And, no, bribing my son with a sticker is not going to do any good either. Nice try Nurse Pinch-fairy.
Once the ordeal was over, and my son could be left alone with 3 sets of hands trying to man-handle him, Nurse Pinch-fairy was ready ask us questions. Questions like, do you have any concerns?
Well, isn’t that a loaded question. I live a parent-life full of daily concerns. Does she mean with his health? With his development? You can imagine it was downhill from there.
While waiting for the doctor after Nurse Pinch-fairy left my husband and I had a serious conversation about changing primary care doctors. They just did not seem prepared for our child. But, once the doctor came in it got much better. We got a lot of questions answered.
Then he left us back in the hands of Nurse Pinch-fairy, who brought two of her pinch-fairy friends with her. It was time for two shots. One nurse held his hands. One nurse held his legs. My husband held his chest. And Nursse Pinch-fairy, who seemed to be the Queen of the Pinch Fairies, administered the shots. And I stood in the corner trying not to look like I think these four people are trying to kill my son. I watched the shot needles go in. I never do that. Why did I do that? They look HUGE! He’s just a little boy… do they have to use adult size needles? Man, someone needs to make me leave the room next time.
Overall, little man took it like a man. Not that he had much a choice. We were free to pull his pants up and leave.
Of course, by the time I was in the car I was crying like a little b*^&h. But, not because of anything bad. My son’s growth curve was right on target, which is great given the sensory issues we have with eating. My son’s development in the last year has been great, and the doctor is very happy with his progress.
I was an ugly crying ball of tears because I was told I had done a good job. He told us we were doing everything we needed to and our son is ok. I don’t know why praise makes me cry, but I can understand why the release of the pressure on my shoulders does.
The pressure will be back tomorrow. But, at least for today, I know that everything is as okay as it will ever be.